


Heartache

by Sarahbob



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Betrayal, Broken Heart, Cheating, Desperation, Drabble, Drinking, Heartache, Hospital, M/M, Modern AU, Pain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-21
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-01-16 11:48:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 11,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1346314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarahbob/pseuds/Sarahbob
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire had promised him he would never do that to him. He had sworn to Enjolras that he would never hurt him. That he'd always be safe with him. And Enjolras believed him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at writing E/R. I might turn this into something bigger if people like the drabble/prologue.

 

* * *

**Heartache**

Enjolras couldn't breathe. His whole world was spinning and he felt sick to his stomach. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't be true. Grantaire would never do that to him. He had promised him he would never do that to him. He had sworn to Enjolras that he would never hurt him. That he'd always be safe with him. And Enjolras had believed him. Had finally allowed himself to open up his heart. To fall in love. To be vulnerable. After years of denying himself any romance, someone had finally convinced him that it could be worth it to give yourself to someone. To be someone's other half.

He couldn't breathe. He was running as fast as he could across the city of Paris. He needed to get out of that apartment. He needed to get away from Grantaire. After fifteen minutes of running nowhere in particular, Enjolras collapsed on his knees and started heaving. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't. But then why did it feel as if his heart was pierced by multiple daggers at the same time? He couldn't remember a time when he'd ever felt this hurt before. He never thought it possible for a heart to break or bleed, but right now, he was sure his heart was scattered into a million pieces.

He was vaguely aware of his phone buzzing and he carefully sank down to the ground. He already had more than ten missed calls and a dozen text messages. Enjolras deleted them all without even reading them. Then he switched off his phone and curled himself into a small ball. He felt like such an idiot. He should've known better. He didn't know how long he sat there in that deserted alley, but he figured it must've been at least quite some time when he realized how his muscles ached and cramped up. With a tired sigh, he pushed himself off of the ground and started walking to the one place where he knew he'd always be welcome. To the one person who'd always have his back.

Tears were readily making their way down his cheeks and his feet felt heavier with every step he took. It all felt so unreal. He still couldn't believe it. Grantaire had been the first person he'd ever dared to give his heart to. He had been his first everything… His bottom lip started quivering as he made his way up the stairs towards his best friend's apartment and when Combeferre finally opened the door after some desperate knocking, Enjolras fell forwards, fisted his hands in Combeferre's shirt and started crying.

"He cheated on me…"

* * *

_(I might write Grantaire's side of the story as well later on. Please let me know what you think. Also, I'm now on Tumblr, under Sarahbob24)_


	2. Chapter 2

_(I have decided to make this a story consisting of drabbles and with focus on a different character with each chapter. Hope you like!)_

 

* * *

Grantaire lay motionless on the couch, staring blankly ahead. His eyes were puffy and redrimmed and his head ached terribly. After a dozen unanswered phonecalls and messages, his phone now lay forgotten on the floor. Enjolras refused to pick up and Grantaire was too shaken up, not to mention too drunk, to get up and follow him. He figured his boyfriend - ex boyfriend? - had gone to Combeferre by now, but Grantaire didn't have the courage to contact him. He wanted to be alone, to drown in his own guilt and self-loathing. God how he hated himself. He wished he would die. But that was too easy. He didn't deserve anything easy after what he had done. What had he done? How could he have done it? What terrible demon had possessed him? A raw scream tore its way out of Grantaire's throat and he fisted his hair until it hurt and then some more. _Stupid, stupid, good for nothing, stupid, stupid._

He suddenly laughed. A laugh filled with self-loathing and disgust. It was stupid to think that he and Enjolras could work. Of course he would screw up. Of course he would hurt him. When had he ever done anything good? He didn't deserve someone as Enjolras. His boyfriend - ex boyfriend? - was too good for this world. His heart too gentle and too big for someone as pessimistic as Grantaire. It was nothing less than a miracle when the younger blond had shyly told him: "I think I might like you..." Grantaire should've never gone with it. He should have kept Enjolras at distance. He should've forced the blond to keep his brave heart away from his own dark one. He should've crushed his own aching love for Enjolras to the ground. Then none of this would've happened.

Grantaire rolled off the couch and stumbled towards his kitchen to grab a bottle of vodka. He was already drunk, had been the entire night, but he needed more. He needed not to feel. He needed to drown out Enjolras' shocked face when he entered the apartment. He needed to forget the choked sob that escaped from his boyfriend's - ex-boyfriend's? - throat. He needed to wash away the painful words that had been said during their fight earlier that evening. He needed to exterminate that look of pure hurt and betrayal from his mind. He needed not to feel. He needed to pass out and hopefully never wake up.

He didn't deserve to wake up. Grantaire didn't know how much he drank. He didn't know how long he was lying there. He didn't know when he had started vomiting and he didn't know who the hands that were suddenly all over him belonged to. He didn't know whose voice he heard and he didn't know what that voice was saying. Soon he didn't know anything.

TBC.

* * *

( _Next will probably be Combeferre's point of view_ )


	3. Chapter 3

_(Thanks for the support! Means a lot. Here's Combeferre's point of view, hope you like)_

* * *

Combeferre looked down at the small figure lying on his couch, tightly wrapped in a woolen blanket and finally fast asleep. The medical student had a hard time understanding what had happened. One minute he had been in his bed, dreaming a lovely dream, and the next he found himself with his arms draped around his brokenhearted best friend. Enjolras was a mess. He was hardly able to tell Combeferre the whole story between the gasps and the hiccups and the endless stream of tears, but the medical student thought he got the gist of it. He just couldn't understand it. Because how on earth could what Enjolras told him be true? How could Grantaire, of all people, be the one to cheat on Enjolras? Their cynical friend had been in love with the blonde for over three years. He had loved Enjolras more than life itself.

Combeferre had known Enjolras the longest and he had been very much aware of the emotional battle going on in his best friend's head when he figured he might have developed feelings for Grantaire. Combeferre knew that Enjolras had fought against it; had tried to push it away. He knew how hard it was for his friend to open up and be vulnerable. Enjolras had been hurt many times in his life by those he loved and he had been building brick walls around his heart for quite a while. He was always on his guard. There were only a few people who he permitted to get to know the real him. And Grantaire had not always been one of them. However, after many midnight debates between Combeferre, Courfeyrac and Enjolras and after going back and forth for months, Enjolras had finally allowed himself to give in. And once Enjolras gave in, he gave in fully, entrusting Grantaire with his whole heart.

And Grantaire had loved him back.

Combeferre was a very protective person when it came to Enjolras, but not once had he thought that Grantaire would be the one to hurt his friend. It was just not right. It didn't make any sense. And Combeferre didn't understand it. Between the curses and the sobs earlier, Enjolras had told him there had been a fight and both of them had said some things. But what exactly had occurred, Combeferre did not know. It must have been bad enough for Grantaire to storm out, get drunk and make the biggest mistake of his life.

Combeferre had never seen Enjolras this lost before. Had never seen that raw look of pain and betrayal on his friend's face. Not like this. The medical student was sure his own heart had broken right alongside of Enjolras'.

Careful not to disturb his sleeping friend, Combeferre fished the phone out of his pocket. He didn't have any missed calls or messages and he felt his heart twist with worry. If Enjolras was already this much of a mess, Combeferre was afraid to imagine what state Grantaire would be in. He refused to believe that the drunkard had done this in good sense. And even though that would never be an excuse, Combeferre felt obligated to have someone check in on Grantaire, because the other man was bound to be just as bad off as Enjolras was. If not worse. With a deep sigh, he pressed speed dial and waited for the person on the other side to pick up.

"Hi Courf, it's me…" Combeferre whispered, one hand gently carding through a mop of blonde curls. "Sorry to call you at this hour… Listen… Could you do me a favor and go to Grantaire's place. Something's happened… No… No, they're not okay… Enjolras is a mess… Courf…He told me R cheated on him… Yes… I-I don't know… Please check on Taire? … I can't go myself, I need to stay with Enjolras… Okay… T-thanks… Call me when you're there… Bye."

As soon as he hung up, he felt the body pressed against him start to shake again and Combeferre closed his eyes as he pulled his now awake and crying friend close.

TBC.

* * *

_(Next up is Courfeyrac! Please review?)_


	4. Chapter 4

_(Thanks for the support, here's Courf's point of view. Hope you like it!)_

* * *

Courfeyrac didn't really know how to feel or what to think when he climbed up the stairs towards Grantaire's apartment. Combeferre's call earlier had shocked him to his very core. If there was one couple of whom he had always thought they'd never betray each other, it had to be Grantaire and Enjolras. The two of them loved each other so fiercely, so completely and so boundlessly. Of course, they could argue and scream at each other over the smallest of things - that had never changed - but they were so devoted to each other that if someone pointed out how they disagreed or dared to upset one of them - in the others presence or not - then may God have mercy on their souls, because they surely would not have.

And now Combeferre was telling him that Grantaire cheated on Enjolras?  _Grantaire c_ _heated on Enjolras?_ It was too ridiculous to be true... But then why had the medical student sounded so worried and so fearful? His friend would never make something like that up. Apparently Enjolras had been with Combeferre, so Courfeyrac could only assume that their blonde friend had told Combeferre the story. Well, then the only explanation had to be that Enjolras was wrong. He must've misunderstood; must've drawn the wrong conclusions. He must've gone to Combeferre without giving Grantaire the chance to offer a perfectly reasonable explanation. That had to be it...

There was just one problem with that theory...  _Enjolras was never wrong_. Courfeyrac knew that Enjolras never accused someone of something unless he was a hundred per cent sure that he was right. He lived by the rule 'innocent until proven guilty'. So was Grantaire guilty? How could he be?

Courfeyrac's heart felt heavier with each step. Combeferre's words echoed in his head.  _Enjolras is a mess. I'm worried about Grantaire._  When he finally arrived at the front door, his hands were shaking. He clenched them into fists and knocked a few times. There was no answer. The usually so bubbly student frowned worriedly and knocked again, this time a little harder and calling out Grantaire's name at the same time.

Still nothing.

"Grantaire! Listen, if you don't open up, I'm coming in with your spare key. I know where you keep it..."

Still nothing.

Courfeyrac cursed under his breath, turned around and reached behind the fire extinguisher next to Grantaire's door where the spare key hung on a small hook. It wasn't the best hiding spot, but Grantaire needed it to be in an easy place so that he could find it whenever he was too drunk to remember where he kept his own keys. With an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, Courfeyrac unlocked the door and stepped inside. The sight that met him knocked the air out of his lungs.

Grantaire was lying in the middle of the living room in a pool of his own vomit, a nearly empty bottle of vodka still loosely held in his hand. His eyes were open, yet not seeing. They were glazed over and stared blankly at the ceiling. Courfeyrac was frozen in place for a few seconds before he bolted forwards and dropped on his knees next to Grantaire. He shook his friend by the shoulders and slapped him in the face a few times, desperate for a response, but getting none. He let out a relieved sob when his trembling fingers finally felt a faint pulse.  _He's alive. He's still alive_.

Courfeyrac forcefully rolled Grantaire on his side - away from the vomit - so that he could breath more easily and carded a comforting hand through the mop of messy black curls. This wasn't good. This was so not good. What on earth had happened? How could this have happened? Courfeyrac didn't understand and he could cry. He fished his phone out of his pocket and pressed the three numbers he hated dialing.

"I need an ambulance, right now"

TBC.

* * *

_(I think Enjolras will be the next pov. Please review! Ideas are always welcome!)_


	5. Chapter 5

_(Thanks for the support, mes amis. Means so much to me. Here's the next update!)_

* * *

Enjolras was amazed that he still had tears left. He had been crying more in these past few hours than in his entire lifetime. Except perhaps that time when his mother died. And each time Grantaire's face popped up in his mind – which was pretty much non-stop – Enjolras' eyes burned and tears came. He couldn't believe that this was happening. No matter how much he tried to wrap his head around it, his heart was utterly lost.

Combeferre had tried his best to calm him down, had tried to get him to open up, but Enjolras found he couldn't tell the story. Not yet anyway. It hurt too much to think about it, let alone speak of it. He had muttered a few words however that allowed his best friend to take a good guess. _Grantaire. Fight. Betrayal. Break-up_.

He was so exhausted and so messed up that he didn't even care that he was losing it in front of Combeferre. He didn't care that he lost his composure. He didn't care that he was breaking down. He didn't care that Combeferre saw him weak, ashamed and vulnerable. He didn't care, because his world had come crashing down on him and all he could think about was _why. Why. Why. Why?_

Enjolras didn't realize that he had fallen asleep.

When he woke up and heard Combeferre tell Courfeyrac that he was worried about Grantaire, he felt even more lost. Would they choose Grantaire's side? What if they all thought that it was Enjolras' fault? Was it his fault? Was he to blame for Grantaire's actions? Enjolras didn't know and he was so confused. He didn't have a grip on neither his emotions nor his thoughts and felt completely out of control. It wasn't a feeling he was used to. And he hated it.

Sobs caused his body to shake and those traitorous tears came leaking from his tired eyes again. Was he going to lose everything now? When strong arms pulled him into a tight embrace, Enjolras cried even harder and before he knew what he was doing he was begging Combeferre to stay with him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he cursed himself for falling apart like this. He loathed his own weakness and inside his head he screamed to get a grip, to pull himself together. But it was no use. For the first time in his life, Enjolras' mind was losing the battle against his heart.

"I'm always on your side, Julien. I will always have your back. I'm not going anywhere."

Enjolras only vaguely registered Combeferre's words. He tried to hang on to them. He tried to hang on to the present and to his friend's attempts to comfort him. But pain, anger, confusion and betrayal dominated his whole being. He kept reliving those last few moments before he stormed out of Grantaire's apartment. He constantly saw himself open the door, ready to apologize and ask his boyfriend for forgiveness. He could still feel his once brave and proud heart shatter into a million pieces when he thought back on the vision that met him. _Grantaire and this woman. Grantaire naked. Both naked. On the couch. In the middle of the act._ _Tequila bottle, beer bottles and clothes forgotten on the floor._

And then the look of shock in Grantaire's eyes. The pure anguish. The guilt and the sorrow. The way he tried to scramble up, only to fall back down because his drunk, wobbling legs wouldn't carry him. The way his gut wrenching scream cut straight through Enjolras' soul when the blonde fled from the apartment.

 _Why, why, why?_ They were happy. They had been happy for so long. Hadn't they? Had they been living a lie? No… No… they were happy. They were both happy. _So then why?_

Enjolras was suddenly pulled back into the present when he realized that Combeferre was shaking his shoulders and called for his attention. His eyes focused on his best friend and he did his best to understand the words that came out of Combeferre's mouth. If Enjolras thought that he had reached his lowest point, that things could not be worse, those words proved him wrong. And the shattered pieces of his heart twisted painfully, only to break even further.

"We need to go. Grantaire's in the hospital. It's not good."

TBC.

* * *

_(Hope you liked, please review?)_


	6. Chapter 6

_Thanks everyone for the support! Here's the next chapter. Grantaire's point of view again)_

* * *

 

When Grantaire opened his eyes, he had no idea where he was. He didn't know what had happened and he didn't understand why his mind was so foggy. He couldn't remember anything. He couldn't remember that Courfeyrac had found him in his apartment hours earlier. He couldn't remember how his friend had called an ambulance. He couldn't remember how the doctors put him to sleep. He couldn't remember how much he had to drink. He couldn't remember anything.

Except Enjolras' face. That he can remember very clearly. He remembers it like it's right in front of him. The pain in his eyes. The betrayal. The disbelief. He remembers it so vividly it's like it has been carved into his very brain. Grantaire wanted to hide away from that face. He wanted to take it all back. Everything that had happened. He would trade his own life for it.

A beeping sound had Grantaire turn his head and look around. A hospital. He was in a hospital. He was in a hospital and his stomach hurt and his head hurt and he didn't know why he was here. Why was he here? What had happened?

_You destroyed everything, that's what happened._

Enjolras was not there.

Grantaire's eyes found the only person sitting next to him in a plastic chair. Courfeyrac gave him a sad smile and reached out to grasp Grantaire's hand in his own. There were tears in his eyes and a look that Grantaire could not quite fathom. Was it pity? Sympathy? Disappointment? His friend shook his head ever so slightly and looked away from him. When he looked back up, his face had hardened and Grantaire definitely recognized anger.

_Good. You deserve anger. You destroyed everything._

Enjolras was not there.

Courfeyrac was speaking and Grantaire had to focus very hard to understand what his friend was telling him. He soon found he didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to hear that people were worried about him. He didn't want to know that he had almost died. He didn't want to hear that he had failed again. He should've died. He should've relieved everyone from the deep disappointment he was. From the burden he had always been.

_Good for nothing. You don't deserve their concern._

Enjolras was not there.

"Don't ever do something like that again, Grantaire? Don't ever scare us like that. How could you? How could you do that to Enjolras? You have friends, R! People who care about you. So much more than you seem to realize. Don't ever do something that stupid again, you hear me? If things go bad, you call out to one of us. We are here for you. When will you learn that?"

There was desperation in Courfeyrac's voice, Grantaire could hear it very clearly. He just didn't understand why it was there. Did Courfeyrac not know what he had done? Had Enjolras not told him how he had destroyed everything? Surely if his friend knew, he wouldn't be sitting here next to him, would he? As soon as they all knew what he had done, they would leave him. They would leave his sorry excuse of a man behind and never look back.

_They should. You are not worthy of their friendship._

Enjolras is not here.

Grantaire didn't realize he had spoken the words out loud. He also didn't realize there were tears falling from his eyes. His head was filled with self-loathing thoughts and he wished there was someone or something to take his pain away. To relieve him from himself. But then Courfeyrac was speaking again and he was talking about Enjolras. And when someone talked about Enjolras, Grantaire was bound to listen. Because it was Enjolras.

"He was here, 'Taire," Courfeyrac told him softly, squeezing his hand in a comforting manner. "He was here for a while actually. He only left when the doctor told us you were going to be okay."

_Of course he left. He must've been disappointed that you didn't die._

"You can't blame him for that. He has every reason not to be ready to talk to you," Courfeyrac continued somewhat sternly. "But he was here, R, and that means he cares. He still cares. Try and hang on to that."

Enjolras was not there.

And that was all that echoed in Grantaire's head. He had destroyed everything and Enjolras was not there. It was all ruined. He should've died.

TBC.

* * *

 

_(Hope you liked it. Next will be Combeferre's point of view again. I wonder if the story is easy to follow with all these different point of views? Please review!)_


	7. Chapter 7

( _Thank you all for your support! Here's the next chapter. Hope you like it..)_

* * *

 

Combeferre had to bite his lip to keep from shouting out when he hung up the phone. How could this be happening? How could life suddenly be so cruel? What had they done to deserve this? How could he - with his arms wounded tight around his broken best friend - rip Enjolras' heart out even further by telling him that his boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend, was in the hospital in critical condition and about to have surgery? How could he cause Enjolras even more pain when the anguish he was in was already so tangible that Combeferre wondered if his own heart was showing cracks as well?  
But then again, how could he not? Enjolras needed to know.

He reluctantly pushed his friend a bit away from him, so that they could look at each other. Enjolras was so far lost in his own mind and memories that he hadn't even noticed that Combeferre's phone had rang. It took the medical student some time to get his younger friend's attention. He called his name, but no response came and Enjolras just kept staring blankly ahead. His friend only seemed to realize Combeferre was trying to tell him something when the older man shook his small shoulders and squeezed his upper arm tightly.

Combeferre's heart twisted painfully when those crystal blue orbs stared up at him. A pleading look in his eyes, as if he was silently begging him to make everything better. To take the pain and sorrow away. And here Combeferre was about to make it worse.

"Julien, w-we... we have to go. Grantaire is in the hospital... Courf said... H-he said it's not good..."

As soon as the words had left his mouth, Combeferre noticed something change in Enjolras' eyes. It was only brief and had he blinked he would have missed it, but he hadn't missed it and it made him feel sick. Combeferre was sure he just saw that bright light - that had always shone vividly in Enjolras' eyes - go out completely and it was replaced by a blank, empty stare. His young friend locked himself away and Combeferre saw it happen. No matter what he said or tried, Enjolras didn't give any form of response.

Not knowing what else to do, Combeferre carefully pulled Enjolras to his feet and manoeuvred him out of the apartment and into his car. As he drove to the hospital, the medical student kept glancing sideways at Enjolras, hoping that his friend would show some sort of sign that he knew what was going on, that he was still there with them. But Enjolras was just sitting there, staring at his feet, not making a sound, and perfectly calm. Too calm.

It scared Combeferre.

When they arrived at the hospital, Combeferre gently led Enjolras towards the waiting room where Courfeyrac and some of their other friends were already waiting. Combeferre didn't miss the badly covered gasp of shock coming from Jehans mouth when he saw them enter. He knew Enjolras made quite the sight. His friend's eyes were red and puffy and he was shaking so bad that Combeferre had to keep a firm hold on him to keep him from toppling over. He pushed Enjolras in a chair next to Cosette - who threw a comforting arm around him - and quickly made his way to Courfeyrac.

His close friend was pale and looked extremely concerned. Combeferre placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it softly. "Do we know more?"

Courfeyrac shook his head. "No more than I told you over the phone." His friend's eyes glided over towards Enjolras' calm form behind Combeferre. "What about Julien?"  
Combeferre followed Courfeyracs eyes and swallowed thickly. He clenched his hands into fists and hid them away under his armpits. "Worse," was all he said. He looked around the waiting room, taking in the faces of their friends. Jehan was there, so were Joly, Bahorel and Cosette. They looked worried, confused, sad. Eponine was there too, standing in a corner by herself. She looked angry and Combeferre hoped that anger wasn't directed at Enjolras, because he didn't know if he could keep his cool if it was. "How much do they all know? About Julien and R?"

Courfeyrac sighed and shook his head. He dragged a tired hand across his face and smiled wryly. "As much as we do...Which is pretty much nothing..."

Combeferre nodded and turned back to his best friend. He sat down next to him, smiled at Cosette and placed a reassuring hand at the nape of Enjolras' neck. He felt the blonde lean in to his touch ever so slightly but that was the only reaction he got. Out of the corner of his eye Combeferre saw Eponine narrow her eyes at them and he glared back at her, silently warning her not to do anything stupid. She just shook her head and turned away.

Combeferre closed his eyes. Courfeyrac was right. They knew next to nothing about what had transpired between Enjolras and Grantaire that evening. And all the could do now was wait.

Wait and wonder.

TBC.

 

* * *

 

( _Hope you liked it! Please review? :) Next is Courfs point of view_ )


	8. Chapter 8

_(Thank you all so much for your support! Here's the next chapter)_

* * *

Courfeyrac was angry. He was angry at everything and everyone. He was angry with Enjolras for causing Grantaire to drink so much he nearly died. He was angry with Grantaire for turning one of his best and strongest friends into a miserable puddle of heartache. He was angry with Combeferre for not being able to help him understand this entire situation. He was angry with the doctor for not allowing Grantaire to go home yet. He was angry with Eponine for blaming Enjolras and calling him out on his actions. He was angry with Marius, Feuilly and Bossuet for not being at the hospital when they should have been.

But most of all, Courfeyrac was angry with himself for being angry with his friends in the first place.

He sat quietly in the uncomfortable plastic chair next to the hospital bed and let his too heavy head rest in his hands. His mind was a mess. Thought after thought tried to fight its way to dominance only to be struck down by another thought. He was angry; he was worried; he was relieved and he was confused. Courfeyrac gently massaged his temples in a futile attempt to get rid of the consistent throbbing in his head.

He knew his headache was a result of the terribly tense atmosphere in the waiting area of the hospital earlier that night. Everybody had been on edge; anxiously awaiting news on Grantaire. Enjolras was near catatonic. He didn't respond to anyone and just sat there, staring blankly ahead. It would be an unsettling sight to anyone, but to those who knew him it was downright scary. When an emotionally drained Eponine suddenly lashed out to him with vicious words that were uncalled for, all Enjolras did was tilt his head. It was Combeferre who effectively silenced Eponine, whereas normally, Enjolras wouldn't have had any problem with doing so himself.

The tension in the room was almost too much for Courfeyrac and he was about to excuse himself to take an airing outside when finally a doctor came in with news about Grantaire. The relief that swept through the room when they heard their friend was going to be alright was enough to bring Enjolras somewhat back to himself and the blonde had promptly broken down in Combeferre's arms. The sight still ached Courfeyrac's heart.

When asked who was going to be the one to sit with Grantaire, all eyes turned to Enjolras. But the chief had shaken his head muttering that he couldn't. Before Eponine could claim the place however, Enjolras silently begged Courfeyrac to go and make sure Grantaire was fine. Courfeyrac knew why Enjolras would rather have him go in than Eponine. He knew chances were real that Eponine – in her emotionally shocked state – would only blackguard Enjolras whereas Courfeyrac was able to be both a friend to Grantaire and Enjolras at the same time. And what Grantaire needed now was an honest, sincere friend. So Courfeyrac went in while the others went home.

Courfeyrac sank a little further down in his chair and covered his face with his hands. He was so tired. It had been two hours now and Grantaire had still not woken up. He was about to leave the room to grab a cup of coffee when a weak, strained voice caught his attention. Courfeyrac nearly gasped in relief when he saw Grantaire's eyes open. He quickly fell back in his chair and grabbed his friend's hand in a tight grip.

"Don't ever do something like that again, Grantaire. Don't ever scare us like that. How could you? How could you do that to Enjolras? You have friends, R! People who care about you. So much more than you seem to realize. Don't ever do something that stupid again, you hear me?"

Courfeyrac couldn't help himself. The words just tumbled from his mouth like water from a waterfall. He was only silenced when Grantaire spoken quietly, brokenly; the words cutting straight through his already troubled heart.

"Enjolras is not here..."

Courfeyrac swallowed thickly and squeezed Grantaire's hand. "He was here, 'Taire. He was here for quite a while. But you can't blame him for not wanting to see you yet. I think he has every reason not to be ready to talk to you."

The silent tears leaking from Grantaire's eyes caused Courfeyrac's heart to twist painfully and he once again wondered what on earth had happened and why it had to happen. He gently thumbed the tears away and did his best to offer Grantaire a reassuring smile.

"He was here though, R. And that means that he cares. He still cares. Try and hang on to that."

When Grantaire didn't give any sign of having heard him and only cried harder, Courfeyrac climbed into the bed with him and pulled his friend close. If his words could not comfort Grantaire then maybe his touch could.

TBC.

* * *

_(Hope you liked it, please review? Next will be Enjolras again and I think we'll learn a bit of what happened)_


	9. Chapter 9

_(Thank you all for the support! Took me a while to get this chapter up. I’m not really satisfied with it, but I hope you like it nonetheless.)_

* * *

  
He closed his eyes to the silent humming of Combeferre’s car. Enjolras was still trying to get a grip on everything that had been happening that evening. He’d never thought it would all spiral down so hard and so fast. But it had and now he had absolutely no idea what to do or what to think. His mind was a mess.   
  
_Grantaire and him fighting_  
  
 _Grantaire storming out the door_  
  
 _Grantaire with that woman_  
  
 _Grantaire in the hospital_  
  
Enjolras let out a shaky breath and rested his head against the window. When the doctor had told them Grantaire was going to be okay, Enjolras needed to get out of the hospital as fast as he could. He had been so relieved, so happy… And all the more difficult were those feelings of betrayal and heartache to carry as they came rushing back. He didn’t want to see Grantaire yet. He couldn’t. What was he going to say? What was Grantaire going to say? Right now, there just wasn’t anything anyone could say that would make Enjolras feel better. All he wanted to do was crawl into his bed, hide in the dark and forget about everything.   
  
Without warning, tears were burning behind his closed eyes again. He wished he could stop crying. He didn’t want to waste his tears like this. He didn’t want to waste tears at all, come to think of it. But he couldn’t help it when his mind was attacked time and again by images of Grantaire.   
  
_Grantaire fighting_  
  
 _Grantaire storming out the door_  
  
 _Grantaire and that woman_  
  
 _Grantaire in the hospital_  
  
“Enjolras?” A soft voice brought him out of his ponderings. Enjolras briefly glanced sideways to Combeferre and saw the compassion in his friend’s eyes. The pity. He felt too miserable to convince Combeferre he didn’t need it.   
  
“Enjolras…  Can you tell me what happened? It’s okay if you don’t want to… It’s just that it breaks my heart to see you like this and I want to help you…”  
  
Enjolras felt his heart beat a little faster in his chest. He closed his eyes again and turned away from Combeferre, staying silent. After a couple of minutes, he swallowed the growing lump in his throat and took a deep breath. He opened his eyes when he started talking.  
  
“We were fighting…,” he whispered softly, throat constricting as soon as the words left his mouth. “I don’t even really know what it was about, b-but out of nowhere Grantaire accused me of never making time for him anymore. That all he was to me was a piece of furniture I could yell at whenever I was stressed out. And that he thought he deserved a lot better than what I was giving him despite his low self-esteem… That apparently I didn’t care about him anymore, because I could have dinner with you can Courfeyrac, but I couldn’t make time to go out for lunch with him. That I didn’t even want him to touch me anymore…”  
  
Combeferre remained silent.  
  
“And I got so angry, because it’s not fair! I told him that this was going to be busy period. I told him I would have little time… If he had paid attention to anything I said, he would’ve known that we were going to see each other less for a while. And then… Then I told him that I wished he would do something useful with his own life instead of being so dependent on everything that I do. I told him I wanted him to stop being a clingy, jealous, desperate boyfriend, because that wasn’t the person that I fell in love with. I told him he was being pathetic.”  
  
Enjolras could see Combeferre close his eyes for the briefest of seconds and he knew that his friend thought that he had crossed the line.   
  
“T-Then… Then R told me that if he was so pathetic and jealous, that maybe I should break up with him and find myself a new boyfriend that wouldn’t mind to be ignored day after day. He said that I should just go and look for a copy of myself because such a person would be the only person that was good enough for me.”  
  
Enjolras was no longer able to fight his tears and so he let them fall, hiding his face behind his hands.  
  
“I-I told him that maybe t-that was for the b-best… T-That maybe we s-should break up…” Enjolras hiccupped as he recalled his own words and he shook his head. “But I didn’t mean that ‘Ferre… God, I didn’t mean that… I love him. I don’t want to break up. I don’t even know why I said that…”  
  
Combeferre soflty reached out to squeeze Enjolras’ hand, a silent encouragement to continue.   
  
Enjolras sniffed and squeezed back. “He stormed out after that, leaving me behind to boil in my own guilt. W-When he still didn’t return after two hours, I decided to go look for him. To apologize… To tell him that I didn’t mean what I said. To tell him that he was right and that I was wrong. I called him a million times, but he never picked up the phone. A-And then when I couldn’t find h-him… I-I decided to go b-back to the apartment…”  
  
He felt the car sway to the side a little, but he couldn’t see why, because his vision was blurred by the tears that kept spilling from his eyes.  
  
“W-When I got there… ‘Ferre… G-God when I got there… H-he was on the couch… R with this woman… I-I caught them red-handed…” A sob tore through his throat “A-And I felt so, so sick… I-I had to get out of there ‘Ferre. I didn’t listen to him. I…” But he was no longer intelligible. Enjolras realized the car had come to a stop at the side of the road and he willingly let himself fall into Combeferre’s comforting embrace, crying on his best friend’s shoulder like he hadn’t done since he was a small child.  
  
“Is it my fault?” 

* * *

  
_(And there’s that. Next will be Grantaire again. Please let me know what you think)_   



	10. Chapter 10

_(Here’s the next chapter. Hope’ll like it)  
_

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_  
“You know I don’t like it when you watch me sleep,” Grantaire mumbled groggily as he opened one eye to peek up at his boyfriend. Enjolras lay close to him, face soft and warm, smiling. The sunlight streaming in from the window lit up his blonde curls and formed a perfect halo around his head. Grantaire smiled when Enjolras leaned in to kiss the tip of his nose and playfully pushed him away. “That’s gross,” he said, but he couldn’t suppress his grin. He was so happy.  
  
Enjolras chuckled. “I know, you always do it to me,” he said quietly as he shifted a little closer and let his head rest on top of Grantaire’s chest, curls tumbling cheerfully around his face. “And I know you don’t like it… It’s just that you look so darn cute when you’re sleeping. I can’t help it.”  
  
Grantaire laughed, brought his arms up and draped them around Enjolras’ body. He kissed the top of his boyfriend’s head and pulled him a little closer. He was still not used to this. Waking up without a hangover and with this beautiful God in his arms. It must be what heaven feels like. Grantaire let out a deep sigh and drew tiny circles with his fingers on Enjolras’ back. He could stay like this forever. “Do you have to leave this morning?” he asked quietly, crossing his fingers and hoping the answer would be negative.   
  
Enjolras didn’t speak for a little while and for a moment Grantaire thought his boyfriend had fallen back asleep. But then he heard a small moan and he felt Enjolras shift in his arms, propping himself up on his elbows to look at Grantaire. “Actually I do… I was supposed to meet Combeferre this morning to plan out our trip to his mother.”  
  
“Hmm,” Grantaire mumbled, more than a little disappointed.  
  
“But… I figured we could do that tomorrow too, so I cancelled… As well as the other things I had planned today,” Enjolras said, smiling. “I’m all yours this morning. And this afternoon. And this evening. Doesn’t that sound great?”  
  
Grantaire knew he was beaming. It wasn’t often that he had Enjolras to himself for the whole day. The guy was so busy with God knows what that Grantaire should be happy if Enjolras could take a few hours off for him. “That definitely does sound great,” he said, trying to keep his voice casual. “What will we do with all this time for ourselves?”    
  
Enjolras offered him a mischievous grin and buried his face in the crook of Grantaire’s neck. “I can think of one or two things,” he mumbled, voice sounding muffled, before gently nibbling at Grantaire’s skin, making the other man shiver a little.    
  
“You can, can you?” Grantaire whispered huskily as he took hold of Enjolras’ wrists and turned their positions so that he was on top. He pressed a light kiss on his boyfriends lips. “Well, so can I.” He felt his heart swell when Enjolras laughed happily and closed his eyes when he deepened their kiss. This, he could do forever._   
  
“Grantaire.”  
  
 _He carded a hand through Enjolras’ curls and slipped one hand under his boyfriend’s sleeping shirt, trailing the warm, smooth skin of his abdomen._   
  
“Grantaire.”  
  
 _Enjolras pressed closer to him and made the most wonderful sounds. They all sounded angelic to Grantaire’s ears and he wished his boyfriend was just as content as he was, lying here together in the bed._  
  
“Grantaire, wake up”  
  
He opened his eyes. The first things he was aware of were Courfeyrac’s concerned frown and the antiseptic smell.  Reality came rushing back to him like a splash of cold water to the face. It was a dream. He had been dreaming it. He was reliving one of his best memories with Enjolras. His boyfriend. His ex-boyfriend. The person he had betrayed in the worst way possible.   
  
Tears clouded his vision and he wanted nothing more than to turn around and fall back into that blissful oblivion again, but Courfeyrac held a firm hand on his arm.   
  
“Grantaire… The doctor has just signed your release forms. We can go home.”  
  
TBC.

* * *

  
 _(Here you go. Hope you liked it, please let me know)_  
  
 


	11. Chapter 11

(Sorry for the delay guys, but here's the bext chapter. Hope you like it)

"Enjolras," Combeferre said, letting out a deep and desperate sigh. He knocked on the bedroom door again and closed his eyes in quiet frustration. "You can't lock yourself in there forever. That is not going to change anything. It's not going to make anything better. I'm sorry for saying what I did, but it was just a suggestion. Nothing more. I'm not picking sides here, I was just thinking that it might help the both of you if you'd talk. I wasn't suggesting you should forgive and forget... But, God, Enjolras... You're scaring me." 

And it was the truth. It had been nearly two weeks now. Two weeks since their fight and Enjolras was doing worse each day. After they got back from the hospital, his younger friend had spend the first few days in bed, just lying there, not doing anything. Then out of nowhere, he drowned himself in his studies. Nothing Combeferre said or did could pull him away from his work. Not until the man was so utterly sleep deprived that he practically collapsed on his way to the bathroom. Combeferre had put him to bed afterwards and Eniolras had barely left his room ever since.

"Leave me alone, Combeferre," came the muffled response from behind the door. Enjolras' voice sounded hoarse and thick and Combeferre knew he had probably been crying for the umpteenth time. 

He slammed his hand against the door and turned back to the living room, crashing on his couch with a deep sigh. Combeferre knew that Grantaire wasn't doing any better. He hadn't seen the cynic himself, but Courfeyrac had gone back and forth between the two of them and Eponine had send him some updates as well. Apparently, Grantaire was now on a 24 hours watch to make sure he didn't do anything stupid. Courfeyrac told him a few days ago that Grantaire had tried to call Enjolras once, but that he had thrown the phone against his wall before it had even rang once.

Combeferre fished his phone out of his pocket and searched for Courfeyracs number. He was really tired. Enjolras' sleep problems started to affect him as well. Something had to change. Maybe he didn't have any right to interfere into his friends' love lives, but this was starting to get unhealthy and looking out for Enjolras' health had always been Combeferre's number one priority. And this was spiraling out of control. On both sides. Something had to be done.

With slightly shaking fingers he typed out a message to Courfeyrac. "Alright, I'm in. Try to find a way to get R here though. E won't even let me in his room anymore.."

It took Courfeyrac only a few minutes to respond even though Combeferre knew the man had to be in class right now. Guess that was a sign how desperate to take action his friend was getting.

"Brilliant, I'll think of something. Will keep you posted. Give a kiss to E for me."

Combeferre smiled faintly and stuffed his phone away. Eniolras wasn't going to like this and he had every right not to like it. Combeferre didn't aim to bring Enjolras and Grantaire together, although he did hope they would make up, but he needed them to talk, work this out so that they could either move on or make up. 

He walked back to Enjolras' bedroom door and knocked. There was no answer and Combeferre hadn't expected there to be. 

"Enjolras? I'm ordering take-out. Do you want anything?" 

No answer

Combeferre sighed. "I'll order you some Thai.."

TBC.

(Hope you liked it, please review!)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so, so long! I've been having a hard time finding inspiration for this one.

Courfeyrac took a deep breath and knocked on Combeferre’s door. It had taken him a lot of time and effort to convince Grantaire to come with him and see Enjolras. And even after days of preparation and encouragement, Grantaire still looked like he could throw up any second.

The past few weeks had been hard and very exhausting. Even though Courfeyrac was one of Enjolras’ best friends, he spent most of his time at Grantaire’s apartment to make sure the artist didn’t do anything stupid. Of course the other Amis came to check up on Grantaire as well, especially Eponine and Bahorel, but Enjolras had personally asked Courfeyrac to keep an eye on his boyfriend and so he did. 

It had been Courfeyrac’s idea to finally intervene and take matters into his own hand. It was horrible to watch both of his friends break down so unforgivably. But it wasn’t that much of a surprise. Enjolras and Grantaire loved each other so fiercely, it was only logical that this hitch in their relationship made them both react just as strong, although in different ways. Something had to be done and it was obvious that neither Enjolras nor Grantaire would take the first step.

“It will be fine, R. Take a deep breath…” Courfeyrac said softly, placing a hand on Grantaire’s shaking shoulder.

His heart ached when he saw Grantaire shake his head dejectedly. “I don’t want to do this, Courf. I can’t… Please… He’s not going to want to see me. I wouldn’t want to see me either…”

Courfeyrac took Grantaire by the shoulders and turned him so that they were facing each other. He gave the cynical artist a stern look and flicked him softly on the nose. “Stop that. Enjolras loves you. You’ve done something incredibly stupid, yes, but your boyfriend isn’t completely innocent in this matter either. This is not going to be the end of your relationship. I refuse to believe it. It’s been two weeks and he is just as much of a mess as you are. You need to talk.”

Grantaire looked at him skeptically and shook his head again. “Just because you ship us so hard and want us to never stop sailing, doesn’t mean we won’t ever sink, Courf. I’ve ruined it. I betrayed his trust, there’s no fixing that. We’re wrecked and it’s never going to be okay.”

Courfeyrac scowled at him. “Well, you’re still going to talk. Because both of you are our friends and I will not have this thing ruin the friendship of our group. We’ve all been at odds for two weeks now, enough is enough. Talk with each other, shout, curse and fight for all I care. The two of you are going to work through this.”

Grantaire looked like he wanted to say something, but the words never left his mouth, because Combeferre opened his front door right at that point. 

Courfeyrac smiled at the bespectacled man and wrapped him in a tight embrace. He had not seen Combeferre much the past few weeks, but they had spoken a lot over the phone and Courfeyrac knew how worried his friend was. 

“Well, here we are…” Courfeyrac said quietly, looking from Grantaire to Combeferre and back. He couldn’t see Enjolras sitting in the living room, so he figured his blond haired friend was probably locked in his own room again. Like he had been for the most part of the two past weeks. 

He softly nudged Grantaire’s shoulder when the black haired artist did not make any attempt to greet Combeferre or even look at him. He was staring intently at the ground and his shoulders were slumped. When Courfeyrac looked closer, he swore he could see the tremors go through his friend’s body. 

Courfeyrac knew Grantaire had been fearing facing Combeferre almost just as much as facing Enjolras. It was commonly known that Combeferre did not take kindly to those who hurt his best friend. Luckily, though, Combeferre was quick to take that, at least, that fear away from Grantaire by gently pressing his shoulder and smiling at him. 

“I’m glad you’re here. It’s good of you to come, Grantaire. You’re supposed to take the first step after everything that’s happened, I think… Julien should appreciate that…”

Grantaire did not respond, but just nodded timidly as he shuffled inside. 

Courfeyrac felt a strange feeling of dread swirl in his stomach. He waited for Grantaire to walk past them before leaning forward and whispering in Combeferre’s ear. “Enjolras knows he’s coming, right?” 

His heart sank a little when Combeferre gave him a sad look. “He would’ve never agreed to it, Courf… For once, I think it’s better to just… confront him straight on...”

Courfeyrac sighed and swallowed nervously. “He’s not going to like this.. Damnit, ‘Ferre… I told Grantaire that Enjolras consented to this… He’s already sick with nerves…”

Combeferre just shrugged guiltily. “Then don’t tell him Julien doesn’t know… It’ll be a shock to see each other anyway and maybe that’s just exactly what they need right now…” Then he turned to walk back into his apartment. Courfeyrac shook his head and followed. He immediately sat down next to Grantaire on the sofa and squeezed the his friend’s hand. The poor man had a sickly pallor and looked close to tears. 

“It’ll be alright, R… We’ve practiced what you’re going to say… You’ll feel better afterwards. You both will… I’m sure of it.”

At least, that was what he desperately hoped.

TBC.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! Comments make me happy
> 
> You can also find me on Tumblr (sarahbob24), come and say 'hi' :)


	13. Chapter 13

Enjolras rolled over onto his stomach and placed the pillow he had been clutching over his head. He didn’t know who Combeferre had invited just now, but he didn’t care and he definitely didn’t want to hear them talk. His head was hurting too much, his eyes burned and he was so, so tired. He wanted to be left alone. To be alone in his cocoon of a blanket without having to interact with the world.

A little voice inside his head chastised him. That voice was always present. Scolding him, mocking him, hating him. Ordering him to get his act together, to stop behaving like a little girl, to forget about Grantaire and move on. Enjolras knew it would be good if he listened to the voice. He knew that he needed to someday if he ever wanted to get his life going again. Sooner rather than later. But there was something there that blocked all rationality from his mind. Something he couldn’t quite place or fathom. But it was always there. Eating away at him. Pain, grief, guilt and sorrow.

He had cried so much in the past week and a half. There wasn’t a time in his life where he had ever shed so many tears. It was ridiculous and yet he couldn’t help himself. They just kept coming. And the harder he tried to keep them at bay, the more viciously they came.

No matter what he did, Enjolras’ mind was always on Grantaire. He couldn’t stop replaying what happened. In his dreams, he was reliving it. During the day he kept going over it. He overanalyzed every detail of their fight. It was an obsession and it made him sick to his stomach. If you’d asked him two weeks ago, Enjolras would’ve never you that he believed in broken hearts or shattered souls. But now, he was seriously doubting himself. He’d even considered asking Combeferre to take a scan of his chest just so that he could discover if everything was still whole and in place there. Because it sure as hell didn’t feel like it.

There was a knock on the door and a soft voice calling out for him. Enjolras squeezed his eyes shut and choked out a frustrated sob. He loved Combeferre, he really did. But the past couple of weeks were just too much to deal with. He couldn’t handle Combeferre’s concerned looks and pressing questions. He couldn’t handle his friend’s gentle pushing and his attempts to take his mind of things. But the more he ignored Combeferre, the heavier his guilt weighed on his shoulders. It wasn’t Combeferre’s fault that he and Grantaire were ruined. Enjolras knew he shouldn’t be frustrated with his friend. But he was. He couldn’t help it. He was annoyed and frustrated with everyone, including himself and it was so exhausting. He just wanted to be left alone, sulk in his own misery.

Another knock. Little louder this time.

“Enjolras, can you please open the door? It’s important…”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t care that it was important, he was in no mood to talk or listen to anyone and he didn’t want to open his door. He wanted to just lie there in his bed and not think about anything or anyone.

“Enjolras… I’m honestly getting tired of your silent treatment. Please open this door now?”

He pressed his pillow a little tighter over his head in the hope to block out Combeferre’s voice.

“Fine, be like that. I’m done with this. I'm done trying to be the patient one. I have a spare key anyway. I didn’t want to do it this way, but if you want to act like a child, then so be it. Enough is enough.”

It took a few seconds for Combeferre’s words to sink in. But even when they did, Enjolras couldn’t care enough to sit up and let his friends in like an adult. He just curled on his side, away from the door and moved a little deeper under the blankets.

“Leave me alone, ‘Ferre. I’m not in the mood to talk to you,” he muttered quietly when the lock turned and the door opened. “And I don’t care what you have to say anyway.”

Enjolras frowned when there wasn’t an answer. There was clearly someone else with him in the room, he could hear someone breathing and there was definitely the sound of feet shuffling. Was Combeferre just going to stand there and wait until Enjolras made the first move? Well then he could wait a long time. No one could outshine Enjolras in stubbornness.

It was quiet for a few long minutes. Tension growing by the second. Then there was the hesitant scraping of a throat and a deep shuddering breath.

“E-Enjolras?”

That voice. He had not expected to hear that voice. His heart instantly dropped down to his knees, yet it started beating very loudly in his throat at the same time, constricting his airway. He threw away the blankets and pillow in one fluid motion and found himself face to face with the one person he really didn’t want to see ever again. When his eyes locked with those deep green ones of Grantaire, he could feel his heart break all over again.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

Grantaire couldn't speak. He couldn't move and he couldn't breathe. Why did he come here again? Who told him this was a good idea? He tried to swallow the growing lump in his throat and watched how Enjolras' face went from shocked to angry to downright outraged.

"What the hell are you doing here, Grantaire," the blonde man said again. His voice low, but trembling with barely controlled emotion. It sent shivers down Grantaire's spine and he wanted nothing more than to turn around and flee the apartment. Run as hard and as far away as possible. What was he thinking? What _was_ he doing here?

Enjolras pushed himself up from the bed and walked towards him. So very slowly. Until he was only inches away from Grantaire. They could feel each other's breath on their skin and Grantaire couldn't help but think about the times where that brought excitement to his heart. Now it only brought fear and regret.

"How dare you come here, R…" Enjolras whispered after a while. His eyes were closed and his voice broke somewhere in the middle. He didn't sound angry anymore, just incredibly sad, which hurt even more. "Why are you here?"

Grantaire opened his mouth but realized he really had nothing to say. What was there to say? Well, he could apologize, of course. But he had already done that and it didn't seem like that was what Enjolras was waiting for at the moment. It would sound so empty, so insufficient. _I'm sorry_ … No, that wasn't good enough.

Enjolras uttered a soft sigh. It sounded tired, so very tired, and defeated. He stepped away from Grantaire and dragged a trembling hand across his face. When he opened his eyes, they were filled with tears and Grantaire wished he still had the privilege to kiss them away. "I don't want to talk to you."

The words were mumbled so quietly Grantaire had to strain his ears to hear. He watched the younger man stumble back to his bed and sink down on the mattress. Courfeyrac hadn't been lying. Enjolras really looked a mess. He had deep, dark circles under his eyes, his hair was tousled and greasy and the usual fire in his eyes was nowhere to be found. His friend looked utterly miserable, Grantaire had never seen him in a state like this. It was painful to watch, though Grantaire doubted he looked any better.

He bit his lip and stared at the floor. Should he just leave? Enjolras had not told him to but it was probably still better if he did. His feet seemed to have other plans, however, as they slowly walked him towards the bed. He missed Enjolras' surprised glance and sat down as well, though he kept a good distance from the blonde.

They sat there in silence for a couple of minutes, both thinking of something to say and both failing. Enjolras had shifted up the bed until his back was resting against the headrest. His knees were pulled up and his head turned away from Grantaire, jaw clenched. Grantaire couldn't determine if it was because he was angry, or because he was trying to keep himself from crying. He hoped it was the first.

"I… I can go… I mean, if you want me to, I'll go…" Grantaire whispered finally after what felt like half an hour. "I just… God, E… I just had to see you, I guess…"

He heard Enjolras huff through his nose and bit his lip when it started quivering. Again he wondered what he was doing here. Why had he come? It was clear enough that Enjolras wanted nothing to do with him. Grantaire nodded to himself and stood from the bed. He tried to walk as steady as he could, but his knees kept buckling under the tremendous weight that lay on his shoulders. When he was almost at the door, Enjolras spoke again.

"I hate you, Grantaire."

Grantaire froze in his steps and squeezed his eyes shut. He was not going to cry. He deserved this, no matter how much it hurt to hear Enjolras say that. He took a trembling breath and reached out to turn the doorknob. Enough was enough. He had to get out. He never should've come.

"And I hate that I love you so much…"

A sudden sob tore its way out of Grantaire's throat. He turned around, tears spilling from his eyes and watched Enjolras shake his head. The blonde man was staring out of the window, a few silent tears sliding down his cheeks. To anyone else, he would look perfectly calm, but Grantaire knew better. He noticed the clenched fists, the small hitch in his breathing, the icy stare. Within seconds, he moved back to the bed, climbed atop of it and buried his head in the crook of Enjolras' neck. He didn't care that his friend was probably going to shove him away. He didn't care that he didn't have any right to seek comfort from Enjolras. He didn't care that this was probably the worst idea ever.

He just cried. He sobbed. He begged. He apologized. Over and over again.

And Enjolras didn't shove him away, didn't yell, didn't even blink at the sudden outburst. In fact, he didn't make any move. He just sat there, head still turned away, hands still clenched into fists at his sides. He didn't respond to Grantaire's breakdown in any way.

Except for his trembling bottom lip. It was the only thing that showed how much effort it took Enjolras to keep himself from falling apart in Grantaire's arms.

TBC.


	15. Chapter 15

They stayed like that for a long time. Grantaire desperately pressed against him while he himself remained tense under Grantaire’s weight. He didn’t have the energy to shove the other man away. Nor did he have the energy to gather him in his arms.

He was tired. So very tired. Tired of feeling miserable all the time. Tired of being angry, of being sad, of being guilty. He was tired of hating Grantaire and tired of loving him. He was tired of being this shell of a person just because of a break-up. He was tired of everything and he didn’t have the energy to fight it anymore.

He needed closure. He needed to finish this up so that he could move on with his life. He needed to forget about Grantaire.

“Grantaire,” he muttered after softly pushing the other man away from his chest. “R… I can’t do this anymore… please, I need you to go. Please, go…”

At that statement, Grantaire started panicking again and he frantically shook his head, pressing even closer to his friend. “No, no, no, no, please E, don’t send me away. Not yet, please. We need to talk. I want to explain!”

He didn’t take that well. A sudden icy anger coursed through his veins and this time he shoved Grantaire away with force. He narrowed his eyes at the man and let out a scornful laugh. “Explain? You want to _explain_ to me? You want to explain why you felt the need to fuck up our relationship? To screw everything we had?”

“You broke up with me!” Grantaire suddenly yelled, tears still leaking from his eyes, but lips pressed together in suppressed anger of his own. “You broke up with me Enjolras! I was trying to be honest with you about how I felt and you broke up with me!”

He shook his head and pushed himself away from the bed. He knew his eyes were spitting fire, he could feel the flames radiating from his skin. “We fought!” he yelled back, his voice raising in volume and for the first time in weeks he felt alive again. “We fought Grantaire, like we did so many times. I was angry!”

His own tears were now slowly making their way down his cheeks and he wiped them away.

Grantaire’s breath caught in his throat and he shook his head. “That’s not true. It wasn’t like other times, it wasn’t and you know it. You broke up with me, Enjolras. You broke my heart!”

“Even if I broke up with you!” he yelled, ignoring Grantaire’s other statement. “Even if I did, that didn’t give you the right to go and _fuck_ someone else… The same damn evening!“ He choked on a sob of his own and sunk to the ground, digging the heels of his palms in his eyes.

Grantaire kept silent, bottom lip quivering violently as he tried to hold his own sobs back.

“I looked for you…” Enjolras whispered between hitching breaths and salty tears. “The second I said those things and you stormed out, I looked for you. I went after you. I wanted to apologize, to let you know I didn’t mean what I said. Because I didn’t, R… _I didn’t_ …”

Grantaire pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his head in his arms, shoulders shaking with sobs he could no longer hold back.

“I called you a dozen times… I went to the Musain, to the Corinth and to every possible club I could think of. And when I couldn’t find you anywhere, I decided to just go back to the apartment and wait for you there, so we could make up, make it better… And you… you”

He didn’t have to finish his sentence. They both knew very well what he found when he returned to Grantaire’s apartment. Neither of them said anything for a few minutes, both crying and both trying to get their break down under control.

“Why?” he asked when he had forced himself to calm down a little. And without realizing it he was asking for Grantaire’s explanation that made him so angry only minutes before. “Why did you do it R? Why did you… Don’t I mean anything to you?”

He jumped at the loud crash that followed. Looking up, he saw that the glass of water that used to be on his bedside table was now shattered across the other side of the room. Smashed to pieces against the wall. Like both their hearts.

“Don’t say that,” Grantaire cried, fisting his hands in his hair. “Don’t you dare say that Enjolras. You mean more to me than anything else in this wretched world, you know that. You mean more to me than the air I breathe. I love you. I love you with all I have.”

He could only huff again. “Then _why_?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know what the hell came over me, okay? I have no idea why I did what I did. It was like I wasn’t even in control of my own body anymore… Enjolras… When you said you wanted to break up with me, I died… I died, and I wanted to die over and over again. I thought I ruined the best thing that ever happened to me and I didn’t think I had anything left to live for. So I drank and I didn’t stop until that woman forced herself on me. And I curse myself each and every single second of every single day that I didn’t have the strength to turn her down… I’m a disgusting and weak human being and I know that I don’t deserve to be here, but Enjolras… Please don’t ever say you don’t mean anything to me…. You mean everything to me. You mean so much to me it physically hurts…”

He watched as Grantaire yelled and cried and yelled again. Tears smeared all over his face, his nose and eyes red and puffy. And he knew he looked the same. Images of a sick, depressed and broken Grantaire flashed before his eyes and he forced the painful memories away.

“I didn’t break your heart,” he said quietly, watching Grantaire curl into a ball on his bed, fisting the blankets. “You broke your own heart by breaking mine.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can follow me on Tumblr (Sarahbob24)! I'm always in for a talk


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